


On April's Day

by huangjinguo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: 1920s - 1930s, Historical, M/M, War, crosspost, lord forgive me for this bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huangjinguo/pseuds/huangjinguo
Summary: During the Northern Expedition to unify the country, Nationalist Yifan meets Communist Yixing and befriends him on their way to Shanghai. During the journey, they realize that the feelings they share go deeper than just mutual respect and friendship. In the wake of the Communist Purge though, their romance seems to be doomed to fail.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this over two years ago on AFF and because I want to avoid all of my responisibilities (I KNOW OH GOD I AM HORRIBLE) I started to edit this fic & crosspost it here. Badummtzz!
> 
> This AU is set between 1926 – 1935. Short rundown: After the Republic of China kind of failed (thanks for nothing, Yuan Shikai) the Warlord Era broke out and drowned the whole country in complete chaos. During the 1920s, the Nationalists joined forces with the Communists to go on a Northern Expedition to unify the country & get rid of the Warlords under the command of Chiang Kai-Shek. When the troops arrived in Shanghai, Chiang Kai-Shek was like “You know what I kind of want to get rid of the Communists I mean I hate them anyways” so he ordered his men to go on a purge and the Nationalists went on a killing spree. The remaining Communists fled & went on the Long March. Wow. Such a dramatic setting for this. And such an amazing way to make gay fic out of that. (Also sorry for the mentioned historical figures, I tried to avoid them as much as possible)
> 
> Also not sure how graphic the depictions of violence in this one are so I put up a warning - I don't think it's ~that~ horrible though. But see for yourself.

**Part I**

The sun was already gone behind Hunan’s mountains as Wu Yifan finally sat down to have his share of dinner, sighing in relief when his tired feet were finally allowed to take a rest. They’ve been marching the whole day to reach Changsha but their leader Chiang Kai-Shek gave the order to set up a camp for the night.

It’s been a month since they left Guangzhou in July to unify China which had been shaken by ruthless Warlords for the last ten years and they’d barely engaged in any combats. Most of the Warlords would give up before the real conflict could’ve even started, since the Nationalist Revolution Army was the better trained, better armed, and better organized troop. Yifan, being one of the many NRA soldiers, grabbed his bowl and shoved some rice and potatoes into his mouth – it wasn’t very tasty, but at least it filled his roaring stomach.

“Do you guys think Changsha will be hard to conquer?”

One of the guys Yifan usually marched alongside raised his voice, since nobody of the other young men who were sitting around the small bonfire said a word. His question was answered with shrugging shoulders. One of the others, who went by the name Lu Han and shared a tent with Yifan, spoke up:

“I’m hoping not. I don’t know about you guys but I am fine with the way it’s been going so far.”

Yifan nodded in agreement. Sure, he signed up for the NRA because he wanted to fight for his country’s unification but he also didn’t mind marching into cities where women and children would greet them happily and the Warlords would come out of their hide-outs, hands held high. It was not like anyone was waiting for him back home – his parents had died when he was a little boy and he grew up in an orphanage where he managed to get out of when he finally came off age. But dying on the battlefield and being forgotten just like that wasn’t what he aimed for either.

“Yeah, I’m also fine with the situation right now. Chiang Kai-shek is doing a great job,” one of the others said, not trying to hide the admiration he had for the Generalissimo.

“I’m just not sure about _them_ ,” another one said and nodded in the direction where the Communists had set up their tents.

“Oh come on. You’re really starting with that again?” Lu Han asked the guy, who might have been called Xiaoqiang, but Yifan wasn’t so sure about that, since he didn’t care too much anyways.

“They’re not like us. I’m waiting for the day we let our guard down and they stab us in the backs.”

Lu Han snorted when he heard this statement.

“If you had paid attention in the academy, you would know that Sun Yat-Sen thought that every Chinese needs a chance to join the revolution. They’re Chinese. And they’re joining our revolution. What is wrong about that?”

When nobody answered and only eyed Lu Han in disapproval, he turned to Yifan.

“Help me out please?”

Yifan chuckled, patted Lu Han’s head and said:

“I think what Lu Han means is that everyone deserves a second chance. Communist or Nationalist. When we’ve unified the country, they will realize whose side they should be on. Just wait for it.”

Since Yifan was one of the oldest, he enjoyed more respect than most of the soldiers in the division. He was also known for graduating the military academy at the top of his class which has also left an impression on Chiang Kai-Shek. Out of all the men on this expedition, their leader shook hands with very few selected soldiers. Yifan had been one of them.

Xiaoqiang looked like he wanted to protest, but when he opened his mouth, his eyes locked with something in the distance and he said:

“Who is that?”

Every head turned and in the darkness the men could make out a slim figure slowly approaching. It was hard to tell in the last remaining light of the day, but the man was wearing the uniform the Communists used to wear. He was very unsteady on his feet, as if he was trying to hold himself up with the last remaining strength he had.

“I’ve never seen him around here,” Lu Han admitted.

“Does he know that he’s approaching the Nationalist part of the camp?”

Yifan sighed and lowered his rice bowl. The bowl and the chopsticks clattered when they landed on the floor as he stood up.

“I’m going to check it out,” he informed the others and left.

He met the stranger half way and the nearer he got, the more he understood why this man was shaking: His uniform was blood stained, as was his face and his hair, and sweat was dripping from his forehead from walking the whole day in Hunan’s humid heat. He must’ve been involved in a fight.

“You’re at the wrong part of camp, Communist,” Yifan said, forcefully, but nice enough to not stir up trouble.

The other one looked up to him and didn’t answer at first. They stood there for maybe a minute, then the stranger asked:

“What kind of camp is this?”

Yifan scoffed.

“Are you kidding me? You don’t even know the name of your own division?”

“I’m sorry, but this isn’t my division,” the other one answered truthfully and tears filled up his tired eyes.

“Not your…? Where are you from?”

“I’m from the division that was sent to Ningxiang. 35th.”

Yifan had never heard of that division before. He looked at the other suspiciously, and the other one seemed to understand what was going on.

“I’m not lying. We were a really small division and were sent there to scout the area around Changsha. It was a trap. Zhang Jingyao knew about us before we could reach the city and one of his troops attacked us.”

Zhang Jingyao was the Warlord that was supposed to be in Changsha and was the next on Chiang Kai-Shek’s list. While Yifan was still contemplating whether to believe him or not, the Communist started to breathe heavily, held up one hand to signal that he’d be back and he ran for the bushes a few feet away from them. As soon as he reached them, he broke down on his knees and threw up. Yifan followed and asked:

“What happened there, for god’s sake?”

As soon as the other one had calmed down, he said without looking up:

“They are monsters. I only made it out alive because I covered myself in blood and acted dead.”

“So that’s not your blood?” Yifan asked while looking at the mess of a man in front of him.

The stranger shook his head no and tried to stop the tears from running down his cheeks.

“It’s my friend’s,” he managed to squeeze out before breaking out into loud sobs.

Yifan’s eyes grew wide. Since nobody of them was used to the real horrors of war, a cold chill ran down his spine. Was this going to be the battle they finally had to use their weapons? And kill people?

“What is your name, soldier?”

“Zhang Yixing”

“I’m Wu Yifan. Look, you’re not part of this division so I don’t know what to do with you. But you’re beat up enough as it is. I’ll bring you to the others; they can give you something to eat. And you need to get out of these clothes,” Yifan said and grabbed Yixing’s shoulders to give him support.

Yixing’s body seemed to only function on the most necessary things. With Yifan’s support, his legs seemed barely to cooperate with the rest of his body and he leaned into the taller one, who dragged him farther into camp.

“Thank you,” Yixing managed to say, right in the moment another group of Communist soldiers saw them.

When they realized Yixing was wearing their uniform, they shot up and ran towards them.

“I’m bringing your buddy,” Yifan said as the first one of them reached them.

Yixing didn’t seem to mind when he was pushed in the other soldier’s arms. In fact, he didn’t really seem to realize anymore what was going on. He was too weak to think about the situation right now.

“Oh my god, what happened?”

“I don’t know exactly. He says he was in Ningxia when a troop attacked his division. He’s the only one alive.”

The Communist looked down on Yixing, then to Yifan. He nodded in appreciation and Yifan turned around to get back to his comrades. And the rest of the dinner he still had to eat.

***

The story of Yixing was spread like wildfire during the nighttime and by morning everybody knew about him. And that Yifan was the one who helped him in the first place. Most of the Nationalists disapproved of Yifan’s move, but he couldn’t care less about what others thought of him. Lu Han was right after all: They were all Chinese. They couldn’t afford to start fighting each other when they might face battle the next days.

“If I was in his place, I’d be happy for any help I’d get,” Yifan answered one soldier he didn’t even know, but had had the nerve to ask him why he had helped a _Communist_.

Truthfully, everybody was expecting a reaction from their leader, but the headquarters stayed silent and Chiang Kai-Shek never demanded Yifan to report the incident. It seemed like Yixing’s stay had been worked out by the Communist general who was in charge of his soldiers and supported Chiang on the way. Not that Chiang Kai-Shek really involved this guy in his decisions – the Generalissimo openly admitted that the United Front with the Communists was a necessary evil to finally end the Warlord Era and bring peace to the country. Instead, Chiang gave the order to stay put a few more days. Yifan didn’t complain. If Yixing was right, Zhang Jingyao wouldn’t give in that easily, so he decided to enjoy the last few peaceful days.

It was on the second day after Yixing’s arrival that the smaller one had walked over the Nationalist’s area and looked for him. He didn’t seem to be too comfortable around the other men who eyed him with grim expressions, but when Yifan emerged out of the tent he slept in, he managed to crack a smile. Yifan approached him, his toothbrush and the old towel he had been using for the past month under his arm.

“Good morning!” Yixing greeted him.

“Morning. I see they gave you a new uniform?”

Yifan pointed at the new shiny uniform Yixing was wearing. It was so new the cloth was still a little stiff around the arms and collar.

“Yes. I had to throw the other one away. The thought of wearing it again…” He stopped and pressed his lips together at the thought of all the blood that he smeared on it in a rage of panic when Zhang’s soldiers approached the spot he was hiding in, next to his friend who had died from a straight-through headshot. “… well, they were nice enough to give me a new one,” he said instead.

“I understand. You’re holding up okay?”

In all honesty, Yifan wasn’t in the mood for a morning chat with this guy, because he needed his alone time in the morning before he could bear the presence of others. The only thing on his mind was his teeth that had to be brushed before asking Lu Han for the rest of the coffee that he had made.

“I’m trying.”

They stood awkwardly in front of each other, until Yifan said:

“Look, I don’t want to come off as rude, but the other guys kind of want to stay with themselves…”

“Oh!”

Yixing looked around and met the eyes of some of the other soldiers who walked past them, examining him from head to toe.

“I get it. Where were you headed? Do you mind if I join?”

“Umm… I was just on my way to the river…” Yifan mumbled, holding up the toothbrush and the towel.  
“Okay!”

Yifan was too startled to protest so he let Yixing join him. The camp was set near a smaller river that was joining a bigger one a few miles down south but Yifan’s geography knowledge has never been the best so he didn’t know the name of it. At least the water was clear, unlike the last one that had to suffice for their personal hygiene.

“So why did you look for me?” Yifan tried to keep up the conversation, more out of curtesy than real interest, while they made their way to the water and got away from the camp.

“I wanted to thank you. I know you didn’t have to help me but you did.”

Yixing gave him an honest thankful look and Yifan finally recognized the bad shape the smaller one was in. There was a deep cut right above his eye and his upper lip was bruised. Bruises and scratches marked his arms. Yifan tried to look away but somehow it was too fascinating. None of the other soldiers had injuries like this.

“It’s nothing, really. A lot around here take the whole Nationalist-Communist thing way too serious anyway,” the taller one said.

While Yifan considered himself a Nationalist by heart and believed in Sun Yat-Sen’s principles, he didn’t see why he should hate the Communists. Of course, they didn’t share their ideology, but that was no reason to hate them. He was sure, when the Republic was in the proper hands of Chiang Kai-Shek, most of the Communists would realize that Nationalism was the only ideology to live by – and the only one that would bring China back to greatness.

“I heard it’s not as bad in the other divisions,” Yixing replied.

“I guess it’s because the Generalissimo is here with us. He leaves quite an impression.”

Yixing let out a chuckle as they reached the water. Yifan proceeded to do his usual business, while the other man pulled a handkerchief out of his pockets and held it under water. Afterwards he put it on the big cut above his eye. The cool cloth seemed to ease some of the pain and he sighed in relief.

“Did you get that during the battle?”

Yifan couldn’t hold back his curiosity anymore, but regretted the question right away.

“It’s okay, don’t feel bad,” Yixing said when he opened his eyes and saw the guilty look on Yifan’s face as he scrubbed his naked arms with the towel to get rid of the dirt and the sweat from the night.

“Yes, I did. A piece of glass hit me when they shot through the window of the room me and my friend were in. We hid in a shed and I thought we had a good chance of not getting caught there.”

Yixing paused and Yifan wasn’t sure what to say to him. But the other one seemed to interpret his silence as a request to continue, so he did:

“We tried to peek out the window to see if they were gone. But they noticed and opened fire. I don’t know how I didn’t get hit by one of their bullets. Guess I was lucky.”

“But your friend wasn’t?”

“No. But it was immediately over. I don’t think he even realized what had happened.”

Yifan wringed his towel nervously.

“I knew they were going to go in. And there was so much blood... So I smeared as much on me as I could and laid down next to my friend. When they came in, I held my breath and just when I thought I couldn’t hold it any longer, they left. But I didn’t dare to get up. I don’t know, I think I waited at least two hours before I even moved.”

“How did you find this camp?”

“Others in my division talked about a different division lead by Chiang Kai-Shek that was supposed to arrive in Changsha any time. I figured if you already had arrived there, we wouldn’t have been attacked and it would have been news all over that Chiang freed Hunan. So I walked back the way we came from and I met a farmer who told me that another troop had set camp around here.”

Yixing shrugged his shoulders and put back the handkerchief on his eye. Then he took a seat next to Yifan, who totally forgot about the towel in his hands.

“That is pretty smart thinking,” Yifan said, with a tone in his voice that outed his surprise.

“No, it’s not. Any other one would’ve done the same.”

“I don’t think I could think that clear when my friend…”

He stopped himself.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

Yixing managed to crack a smile, but Yifan didn’t feel like returning it. He really did feel sorry. Yixing seemed to be a genuinely nice guy and he was sure the incident bothered him more than he seemed to be admitting at the moment. Yifan thought of something else to talk about so he blabbered:

“So, where are you from exactly? I’m from the academy in Whampoa and was kind of thrown into this whole thing after my graduation.”

“You’re from Whampoa?! Wow, so who’s the smart one now, huh?”

Getting into this famous military academy was a difficult task – only a few hundred of the applicants got accepted. And even fewer got accepted when they were members of the Communist Party of China.

“I guess I did pretty well on the entry exam,” Yifan mumbled, because he never had been the one to handle praise very well.

“I’m from Changsha, actually.”

“So you’ve joined on our way?”

Yixing nodded and changed the sides of his handkerchief, so the cooler side was pressed on his wound.

“I hated the way Zhang Jingyao treated us and how me and my family had to suffer under his troops. So when I heard that the United Front was looking for volunteers, I enlisted.”

“So you have no military training?”

“No. I barely even know how to load my gun.”

Yixing chuckled, and then said:

“And they send me off to scout the area, isn’t that a real bad move?”

Yifan didn’t answer, because he was in shock. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could ever send untrained young men into battle and sleep well at night with the thought that they basically had sent them into death.

“I can show you, if you want,” Yifan suggested.

“Show me what?”

“How to load your gun. You cannot walk into Changsha and not know how to at least use your weapon.”

Yixing hesitated, but then he nodded.

“Okay. Show me. But I left my weapon at camp.”

“No problem at all. Let’s meet up some other time again.”

Yifan folded his towel and stood up. Yixing followed and took Yifan’s hand.

“Thank you, Yifan,” he said, shaking the other’s hand and smiling.

He flinched a little, because his bruised lip started to burn at the movement.

“You don’t need to thank me. Get some treatment for your wounds. And when you’re patched up enough we’ll practice on your gun skills.”

Yixing nodded, then they parted ways back to their parts of the camp. When Yifan came back, Lu Han already sat in front of his tent with a cup of coffee in his hands.

“What took you so long?!“ He asked while handing the arriving man the beverage, that wasn’t anywhere near hot anymore.

“I’m sorry. That guy from two days ago talked to me.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing. He wanted to say thank you, that’s it.”

Lu Han smiled, because he was a sweetheart like that. Yifan never completely understood why Lu Han had enlisted in the first place. The young man was the nicest person somebody could ever meet. He sure knew how to handle any kind of weapon, because that what was they had to learn in Whampoa, he was bright and clever and knew everything about military tactics. But Yifan could barely imagine Lu Han killing anyone in combat. He could barely imagine Lu Han physically hurting anyone. Yifan downed the cold coffee, then the two men proceeded to whatever task had to be done that day, even though in the back of his mind, Zhang Yixing ghosted around and kept reminding him that maybe, in just a matter of a few days or even hours, he needed to face the first real battle of his life.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The troop enters Changsha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zhang Jingyao actually did exist but he did not die like that - but I just needed somebody so I borrowed him. Also sorry for putting Chiang in here, man. Not trying to destroy anyone's rep with this stuff here.
> 
> Also, the Changsha Battle thing didn't really exist. Rumor has it that the NRA didn't have to fire one single shot until they reached Shanghai, but come on. I needed a little bit of action.

**Part II**

The next day, Yixing stood in front of Yifan’s tent again, his weapon attached to his belt and as soon as Yifan had gulped his obligatory cup of Lu Han’s coffee, he stood by his words and took Yixing away from camp so they could practice together without someone hearing the shots. Yifan was amazed by how fast Yixing got the hang of the whole thing and how attentive he was when he explained and showed how to handle a gun – he had the feeling that if Yixing had attended the Whampoa Academy, he would’ve become one of the honorary soldiers.

“Who’s the smart one now?” Yifan mimicked Yixing when Yixing loaded his gun, aimed and hit the target they used for practice, not even trying to hide the impressed tone in his voice.

“It’s different when you have to shoot at living things,” Yixing responded as if the fact that he succeeded in handling his weapon in less than two hours wasn’t as great as it sounded.

“Let’s hope there will be no need for that.”

Yixing side eyed him and put his gun away. After taking a long pensive look at the target they had put bullets through, he said:

“It will when we reach Changsha.”

Yifan noticed the sad tone in Yixing’s voice and he put one hand on the other’s shoulder, not even really knowing why. He squeezed it and then said:

“Let’s have an eye on each other then, okay?”

Yixing looked at him, and Yifan noticed that the bruise on his lip had gotten a little better. Yixing revealed a dent in his cheek, before he grabbed Yifan’s hand to put it back down again and said:

“Sure.”

***

The command to leave for Changsha came the next night right before sunrise, which caught most of the soldiers by surprised who packed their things in such an amazing speed, only some burnt branches and trampled grass indicated anyone had set up camp in the area. The march to the capital city of Hunan took them about three hours, and on their way, they encountered some citizens who told them that Zhang Jingyao didn’t think of capitulation any time soon which made the troop, consisting of a lot of young and inexperienced soldiers, nervous.

Chiang Kai-shek and the other generals seemed to already have a plan though and divided the division into smaller troops, each having its own order to follow. Yifan was a very good shot, so he and a few others were set to go into one of the houses to give the troops on the ground rear cover in case Zhang’s soldiers attacked. He had no idea where Lu Han or Yixing were assigned to, and he didn’t have the time to check up on them before they entered the city, but he hoped they’d be okay at the end of the day. When the signal for attack came, Yifan’s head was completely empty and he followed the guy in front of him who ran for the building they should go to. It was higher than the other ones and offered a good view over the buildings where Zhang and his men were expected to be. As he took his position in a room that looked like a trashed office, he literally felt his blood rushing through his veins and his heart pumping adrenaline into every muscle of his body. 

Offering rear cover was a harder task than Yifan had imagined. He had problems spotting the Warlord’s men and hesitated way too often because he was afraid he might hit one of his own when he noticed movements down on the streets. Most of the time he only heard screams and commands followed by shots. But all of these scenarios took place inside of the surrounding houses and Yifan couldn’t do anything to help, which made him shift nervously in his position. He didn’t dare to move too much though, since that might give him away and he tried to ignore his legs that started to tingle at the very uncomfortable position they had been in for the past hour. When the last house had been raided, he saw his men exiting, Chiang Kai-Shek leading the way. He looked furious.

“WHERE IS HE?!” Yifan heard the Generalissimo scream.

Yifan clenched his weapon so hard it started to shake. Was he talking about the Warlord? Had he been warned and had already left? Yifan sighed in frustration and right in that moment someone tackled him from behind. His gun slipped out of his hands and the attacker had overpowered him within seconds.

“Look at you!” A voice called from the entrance.

It was a tall man wearing a western uniform, pretentiously decorated with a lot of medals. Yifan wanted to call for help, but the man just shook his head and said:

“They’re dead already, no need to stress about it.”

“What…?!”

How could Yifan not have noticed the murder of ten other men who were in the rooms next to him?! It wasn’t until then when it dawned on him:

“You are Zhang Jingyao.”

The other one simply nodded his head yes, and refrained from any other comment. He seemed to think Yifan wasn’t a real threat since he was controlled by one of his own men and was the only enemy in this house who was still breathing. Yifan could tell by the hands around his neck that one snap would suffice to change that immediately. What was he supposed to do?

“This idiot Chiang really thinks he can defeat me,” Zhang chuckled and strolled over to the window where he watched Chiang Kai-Shek yelling at some poor soldier.

An amused smile curled around his lips and Yifan felt the arms holding him down clench tighter around his neck.

“He will find you, you know,” Yifan said, even though he might have not believed that himself.

“Chiang is nothing but a blind dog strolling down my streets. He looked in the wrong places and lead his best shots into one big trap,” the Warlord replied unimpressed and looked down on Yifan, then to the guy who held him tight on the floor.

“Kill him and throw him out of the window so Chiang knows we’re still here.”

Yifan closed his eyes. That was it. He was going to die barely a month after the Northern Expedition had started. He’d never live to see the day of a unified China. He would not be remembered as one of the heroes defeating the Warlords. He’d be forgotten by the time the division reached the next big city.

“No you won’t!” another voice called from the end of the room.

Yifan recognized Yixing’s smaller slim figure in the doorway. He was holding his weapon, but his hands shook miserably. The Warlord looked surprised, then he chuckled and said:

“You think you’re going to be able to aim properly with those shaking hands?!”

Then he pulled out his gun but just when he put his hand on the trigger, a shot resounded in the room. Yixing had pulled the trigger before Zhang Jingyao had the chance to take aim and hit him somewhere in the face. Yifan took the advantage of this surprising moment and wrestled himself free of the guy holding him. Out of instinct he grabbed his gun on the floor and shot his attacker who tried to throw himself onto him again, not thinking about it at all. The room was silent for a second after the shot and Yixing ran to Yifan.

“Are you okay?!”

Yifan didn’t answer, instead he asked:

“How did you find me, Yixing?”

“I saw movement in the building. I knew you were assigned to give us rear cover and I… I left my position to check on you. The other guys from your troop are dead so I feared for the worst.”

“You are crazy!” Yifan exclaimed and Yixing helped him to get on his feet.

Zhang Jingyao groaned, spitting blood. He wasn’t able to move or open his eyes. Yixing’s bullet had hit the right side of his face and had stuck there, smashing his zygomatic bone. He seemed to be in immense pain.

“You shot the Warlord, Yixing,” Yifan whispered and didn’t believe these words himself.

Yixing couldn’t answer. He was shaking all over his body and his face had turned chalk white. Something had to be done about the Warlord before his men realized what had happened, but both of the young men were reluctant to draw their weapon and give Zhang the final shot. Outside the house they heard Chiang’s voice:

“They’re in there! Storm it!”

“It’s going to be okay,” Yifan murmured and barely a minute later, a NRA soldier entered the room, his gun held high.

When he saw the scenario before him, he lowered his weapon and stared at the Warlord who was slowly bleeding out but refused to die like this. His hands searched aimlessly for the gun he lost when he fell to the floor.

“Generalissimo! He’s here!” the soldier yelled into the direction of the staircase.

Chiang Kai-Shek followed his voice and when he saw Zhang on the floor, his eyes turned wide.

“I found him like this, Sir,” the soldier reported matter-of-factly.

The Generalissimo walked over to the man on the floor and kicked his gun into the corner of the room. Zhang Jingyao groaned in frustration – he had felt his fingertips touching the metal of the gun already.

“Who was this?” Chiang Kai-Shek asked Yifan and Yixing who flinched when being addressed by their commander.

“M..me, Sir,” Yixing stammered.

The General nodded and looked down on the target of this mission. Then he drew his gun and shot the Warlord in the head, immediately ending his suffering. His body twitched one last time, and then it remained motionless. Blood flowed out of the wounds and covered the floor around him, his shiny white uniform taking on the dark color of blood.

“Lieutenant,” Chiang Kai-Shek raised his voice and the soldier who had entered before him tightened his shoulders, “call of the search. Our mission is completed. Zhang Jingyao is dead and Hunan is freed.”

The lieutenant saluted, then took his leave. Chiang Kai-Shek eyed Yixing and Yifan one last time, clearly not remembering that he already knew one of them. His eyes rested longer on Yixing and his uniform, outing him as Communist. He nodded in slight approval and exited the room. The unlikely duo was left with the body of the Warlord and the other dead soldier and it took a moment until one of them spoke up:

“He is scary.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Yifan said.

“What about him?” Yixing asked and pointed at Zhang with shaking hands.

“I don’t care about him. Let’s just leave, Yixing.”

When they were out on the streets, Lu Han spotted them right away.

“Oh my god, Yifan! I thought you were dead!”

He hugged his friend and then started blabbering:

“I was with the troop securing the back roads and when I heard that Zhang was found dead in the building you were supposed to be in I was really worried!”

“It’s okay, Yixing saved me,” Yifan replied.

Lu Han turned to Yixing, who looked a little better after catching some fresh air. His smile grew wide and he said:

“Well, thank you so much then!”

“It’s... umm... you’re welcome...” Yixing murmured and an awkward silence hung in the air, before he turned around to get back to his own division.

***

In the evening, the division had set camp a few miles outside of Changsha to take a rest from battle and to prepare to keep pushing forward to the next stage of the expedition that was going to be Nanchang, the capital of Jiangxi Province. The residents of Hunan had given the army a lot of goods to show their gratitude – besides jackets, towels, pillows and other supplies they had made them also a lot of food. It was the first time in weeks the soldiers didn’t have to eat boring cooked rice and some sweet potatoes which lifted everyone’s mood and Yifan was surrounded by curious comrades who wanted to know every detail of the incident in the building. As it turned out, Zhang Jingyao already knew about Chiang’s tactics and had set a trap. He hid in the building where Chiang had placed his snipers so he could kill them and attack with the advantage of the overview when the NRA troops would be without cover. His plan would have worked if it hadn’t been for one Communist soldier who had left his position after he had noticed suspicious movements in the windows of the building. The death of the Warlord had shocked his untrained soldiers so much they had come out of the building with their hands held high - without anyone to lead them they didn’t know what to do anyway, so the moment they had surrendered, Hunan was finally freed from the tyrant and his minions that had made its people suffer through the past years.

In the eyes of the Nationalists, it was Yifan, of course, who was the hero of the day. They did not want to hear about the part of the story where Yixing stepped up to the Warlord and shot him to save Yifan who had died if it hadn’t been for the other one. After two hours or so Yifan couldn’t take it anymore and left the happy gathering, since he wasn’t a very social guy to begin with and didn’t like the way the other soldiers twisted the story to leave Yixing completely out of it. To avoid any more conversation, Yifan excused himself without any explanation and he wandered around the camp. The Communists were just as frisky as the Nationalists, judging from the happy chatter and laughter that Yifan noticed when he walked past their bonfires. But he kept on walking until the camp was behind him and the voices had faded into the distance. The day had been crazy and he hadn’t had find the time to sort out his thoughts and put the latest events into proper perspective. He had killed his first person. And he had been closer to death than ever in his life. If Yixing hadn’t come just in time, he’d be laying out on the streets of Hunan, covered in dirt and blood. As he walked aimlessly around, he reached an old looking tree that gave just enough cover to not be discovered by anyone else.

“You’re here too?”

Yifan flinched and turned around. He made out Yixing leaning against the moss-covered tree’s trunk.

“Don’t you have a party to attend, you hero?” asked Yifan and sat down next to him.

Yixing moved to the side to give the other one a little more space.

“No, I don’t feel like celebrating,” he answered.

“Me neither.”

“Well, how could we? The others weren’t there so they don’t know how it _really_ was.”

Yifan’s throat escaped a low, approving sound and he nodded.

“I hope this is not going to happen again,” he added.

Silence hung in the air until Yifan said:

“Thank you for saving my life, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it. You would have done the same thing, wouldn’t you?”

Yifan looked at Yixing who pinned him down with a sincere look in his eyes.

“Sure!” he answered hastily.

Yixing smiled, and with his bruised lip and his ruffled hair he looked like a little boy that got into a fight at the playground with another kid.

“Do you think you’ll be fine?” he then asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean in: Will you be okay knowing you killed another person?”

Yifan swallowed hard. He hadn’t really thought about this until now.

“I think I will never be okay with it,” Yixing said and threw his arms around his knees before he continued, “I mean, this Warlord was a bad person, right? He brought so much misery to everyone in Hunan and also my family. His soldiers killed my friend. But when I close my eyes I see all this blood splashing from his face and I think of all the pain this man must have felt. And it was all because of me. And I kind of feel bad about it.”

“Maybe you need to give it time. It’s been barely ten hours since you pulled that trigger.”

“I’m afraid to go to sleep tonight,” Yixing admitted and looked helpless into the distance.

Yifan couldn’t think of proper words to comfort the other one, he had never been someone others talked to when needing help, so he simply said:

“You will be fine, Yixing. You have to look on the bright side: You are the reason why Hunan is freed of the Warlord terrorizing it. And you saved me. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. And I don’t know how I could ever thank you for that.”

Yixing managed to lift one of the corners of his mouth revealing that dimple that even added to his boyish look.

“This whole thing is crazy,” Yifan said out of the blue and Yixing shot him a questioning look.

“I mean. How old are we? We barely came off age and suddenly we are sent off to fight against other Chinese.”

Yixing nodded to express he understood where Yifan was going.

“And what is going to happen with the United Front when we fought off the last Warlord?”

Yixing lifted his head to look right at the other one next to him.

“I mean, as of right now, we are fighting alongside. What will happen when Chiang Kai-Shek doesn’t need the Communists anymore?”

“I am one of the Communists, Yifan.”

Yifan fell silent. He knew very well that Yixing was one of them. And that’s what worried him. He didn’t know Yixing very well, but he had the feeling that the other one was a good person at heart. He didn’t want him to get hurt just because he lived by a different ideology.

“I’m just saying. Chiang Kai-Shek only accepts you because he needs you right now. I just don’t want another fight to break out.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me to get hurt?” Yixing asked and grinned.

“Pfff, cocky!” Yixing snapped and felt blood rushing to his face, glad that it was already dark and Yixing couldn’t notice.

Being busy to calm himself down again, he only felt Yixing’s hand on his knee when he slightly squeezed it..

“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt either.”

Yifan cracked a smile and adjusted his sitting position to make himself a little bit more comfortable.

“You know when I reached the camp and I only made out Nationalists, I kind of wanted to turn around and leave again. I only heard bad things about them and how they treat Communists. But you came and helped me regardless of who I was. I knew right away that you were a good person, Yifan. And I hope we can become friends. Because… I have no one else left right now, to be honest.”

“What about your family?”

Yixing only shook his head and Yifan saw tears glistening in his eyes. The Nationalist grabbed his hand that was still resting on his own knee and held tightly onto it.

“Yixing, what happened? Do you want to talk about it?”

Yixing took a deep breath before he said:

“I have never talked about it before…”

Yifan thought he meant that he wasn’t ready to talk now, but Yixing started talking, slowly, because he tried not to cry:

“My family lived together with another one in one apartment because most of the houses were already looted and destroyed by Zhang’s troops. I befriended their eldest son, Anren. We all got along pretty well and we thought that the worst was over. But they came back. They stormed our apartment and started tearing up the place. I don’t know why. I guess they were bored and needed something to do. They were ruthless like that. But going through our things wasn’t enough... they beat our fathers until they didn’t move anymore.”

Yifan’s stomach turned. He never had anyone to call his family, so he didn’t really know how a situation like that felt like. But he could imagine the pain and suffering something like this mustÄve brought upon a family.

“The worst part was when they raped the women. My mother and Anren’s. He also had a sister who was about thirteen years old. They locked us up in the other room and we could do nothing about it but to listen to their screams. And then they left. My mom never recovered from that.”

The more Yifan listened, the angrier he got. What was wrong with these people?! What had given them the right to hurt other people in this horrible way?!

“My father was a member of the CPC, so me and Anren decided to join the Communist army and enlisted. To avenge our families. But he didn’t even live to see the day when Zhang Jingyao’s troops were defeated.”

Yifan felt tears gathering in his eyes, when Yixing couldn’t hold his own back and rubbed them away with the back of his hand.

“So. Yes. That’s my tragic backstory. And I’m not an exception. Even though I wish I was. But there are so many other innocent people dying and hurting because of these generals who somehow think they have the say about everyone. And it’s not right.”

“I haven’t known it was _this_ bad,” Yifan exclaimed in disbelief.

“It’s only getting worse.”

“I don’t know what to say about this.”

“Just appreciate the time with your family while it lasts,” Yixing mumbled, never letting go of Yifan’s hand.

“Well… I never had one,” the other one flatly replied.

Yixing frowned.

“My parents died when I was a little kid. I don’t even remember them. I grew up in an orphanage and when I was old enough, I found myself a job, saved money and enrolled in the academy.”

“I’m sorry,” Yixing said honestly.

Yifan only shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think about it very often. I think it’s a good thing I don’t remember them. As a boy I used to daydream about what my father and my mother were like. They were the best people in the world for me. So it wasn’t that bad actually. The other kids I knew were all from the orphanage so nobody of us had any parents or family left. I could manage.”

They looked at each other, each of them feeling deeply sorry for the things the other one had to go through. It was Yixing who broke the silence:

“My god. We are a bunch of wrecks.”

Yifan couldn’t help but to chuckle at those words.

“Who would’ve thought a Nationalist and a Communist would share their tragic backstories after a battle they fought together?” Yifan asked.

“Maybe that’s what the United Front is also for,” Yixing replied, “Finding comrades even though they don’t share the same ideology.”

Yifan thought about it, and then said:

“Don’t let Chiang Kai-Shek hear that. He’d go crazy.”

Yixing burst out laughing and nodded.

“Yeah, I won’t tell him, no worries.”

They sat together for a long time, talking about anything that came to their minds. They talked about things they hated in school. Their favorite food that they were craving after weeks of rice and sweet potatoes. The things they wanted to do after the Northern Expedition and the countries they’d like to visit. They talked about everything, except for Communist or Nationalist ideology. The only thing that reminded them of their difference in that moment were the uniforms they wore which couldn’t be told apart very well anyway in the dark. It wasn’t until they laid flat on the damp grass because the tiredness kicked in they realized how much time must have passed.

“I think I need to go to bed,” Yifan said and Yixing agreed.

When they were getting back to camp, the happy chatter from the other soldiers had died down. Most of the men had gone to bed themselves and only a few were still up besides the guards that had started the first nightshift. When they recognized both of them, the guards raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say a word.

“Good night, Yixing. Try to get some sleep.”

“Good night, Yifan. Rest well.”


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinship makes Yifan crumble.

**Part III**

As it turned out, Changsha was the big exception on their way to Shanghai, Nanchang being just as easily freed as other cities before. Yifan was very relieved about that, because he wasn’t very eager to go through the same things he experienced in Hunan, neither did any of the other people in his division.

Yixing and Yifan grew closer over the months but a lot of other soldiers did not approve of their friendship. To avoid more suspicious looks and people whispering behind their backs, they started to meet in secret, after dinner, when the sun had gone down and most of the soldiers had gone to bed. Most of the time when they met, they’d talk about their day and the things that had happened in their group. Sometimes they would talk about their future plans, even most of the time those were just mere ideas and thoughts that would probably never be executed.

“I’d really like to see America one day,” Yifan admitted one night when the camp had fallen silent and he met Yixing in their new hide out.

Their camp was set near Wangluo Lake, just about 10 hours away from Nanchang. They’d be on the road for quite some time from now on. The next city on the plan was Hangzhou, which was about 400 miles away. Yifan didn’t mind the walking - in fact, he liked it better than resting a few days in camp. The only good things about the camps were Lu Han’s morning coffees and the talks with Yixing. Everything else rather annoyed him, especially his Nationalist comrades who grew more hostile towards the Communists every day which made it even harder for Yifan and Yixing to keep up their friendship. The other soldiers watched every move they made closely, ready to report any kind of inappropriate alliance that might destroy the ‘peace’ in the division. To put it frankly, a lot of people suspected them to plan some sort of coup against Chiang Kai-Shek. Which wasn’t true, of course.

“Huh? Why America?” Yixing asked and pulled the coat he was wearing closer around his body.

October was the month were even the weather in Southern China got unpleasant. The temperatures dropped during the night and the humid air made it more uncomfortable, since the coldness kept creeping through clothes and tents.

“I heard it’s a great country full of opportunities. Anything is possible.”

“Pff, Yifan, you can’t even speak English.”

“I could learn!” Yifan defended himself but the way Yixing smiled told him that he didn’t mean to insult him.

“We could go together,” he then suggested out of the blue.

Yixing turned his head and raised his eyebrows.

“Go to America? What would I want in America?”

“I don’t know, didn’t you want to become a musician? I heard Jazz is quite the thing over there.”

Yixing chuckled, then he shook his head, like a mother listening to an unbelievable story her adorable son had just made up.

“Well, I heard they’re not very welcoming towards Communists, so…”

Yifan fell silent. He had long given up trying to convince Yixing to change his beliefs. The KMT allowed CPC members to apply for some sort of double membership. Yifan figured if Yixing just applied for that, it would be easier for both of them and maybe one day he’d be a full Nationalist and on their side of the United Front. But Yixing never wanted to hear any of it. He believed in Communism just as much as Yifan believed in Nationalism and he’d be feeling like a traitor to his father if he ever applied for even a double membership.

“I mean you wouldn’t just apply for a CPC membership either if it was possible, wouldn’t you?” Yixing had asked him when Yifan didn’t seem to understand why he was so reluctant to accept his request.

He realized Yixing was telling the truth, so Yifan had dropped the topic and never spoke of it again, even though the idea still lingered in the back of his brain.

“Okay, not America then. What about Japan?” the taller one joked.

Yixing made a grimace. Japan was one of the last countries he wanted to go to and Yifan knew that. Yifan chuckled and Yixing bumped the other’s shoulder with his fist.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Sorry.”

Instead of replying with the usual “Don’t be sorry, Yifan”, Yixing said:

“Let’s not talk about getting away all the time. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon anyway.”

Yifan sighed.

“You’re right. I think it will take another year until we’re going to reach Beijing.”

“Do you think it’s nice there?”

Yifan shrugged his shoulders.

“Before I left for the Northern Expedition I barely made it out of Guangzhou on a regular basis. How would I know?”

“I think I want to stay there when this is all over,” Yixing admitted.

“Why’s that?”

Yixing didn’t answer immediately and after a few moments of thinking he said:

“I don’t know why exactly but I have no intention of going back to Changsha either. Nothing’s waiting for me there. So why not stay in Beijing?”

Yifan looked at the other one and completely understood what he meant.

“Okay then,” he said, “Let’s stay in Beijing.”

“You’d stay with me?”

Yixing sounded surprised and he turned his head to look at Yifan with wide-opened eyes.

“Yeah it’s not like I have somewhere in particular to go back to either,” Yifan explained matter-of-factly and rolled on to his side to have a better look at Yixing who had wrapped his arms around his knees to keep himself warm, “And besides, you’re the closest thing to family I’ve ever had. You’re not supposed to leave family behind.”

“So we’re already family?” Yixing snorted after he stopped for a second in which he didn’t know what to reply.

“Aiya, you know what I mean!” Yifan ripped out some grass and threw it at his friend in frustration. “I’m being honest with you and that’s everything you have got to say!”

“I’m sorry, Yifan,” Yixing said and placed on hand on the other one’s shoulder, “I’d like you to stay with me. I’m just not used to you being this… emotional.”

“I should’ve never said anything,” Yifan grunted and laid flat on his back again.

Yixing laughed, then ruffled Yifan’s hair.

“I’m freezing, I better get back before I catch a cold.”

“Hmmm.”

Yixing stood up, rubbing his hands against each other. The cold had made it through his coat under his uniform.

“We need to find another way of meeting when winter comes. It’s only going to get colder,” Yixing said.

“I know something,” Yifan said. “Buy another coat.”

Yixing clicked his tongue and shook his head, like he wanted to say “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” but instead he just said:

“I’ll leave first. Good night Yifan.”

“Good night.”

Ever since they had run into the guards of the camp they made sure to go back separately. Yifan waited another fifteen minutes until he got up himself and shivered when a fresh breeze twirled around his body. Yixing was right. They couldn’t go on this way with winter around the corner. Even if this was Southern China and the temperature never dropped below freezing point like in the North, it still was too cold to spend half the night sitting in wet grass.

***

The next day, Yifan, Lu Han, and a bunch of others were assigned to take stock regarding the remaining ammunition. Yifan thought this was a joke – except in Changsha, they hadn’t fired a single shot so the ammunition count still should be as it had been the last time.

“This is only to keep us busy,” he groaned when he and Lu Han reached the tent where the ammunition was stored.

“Come on, don’t be mad,” Lu Han sing songed, “As soon as we did the inventory, we’re basically ready to go. It’s way better than cleaning tents or any of the like.”

The three other men had arrived before them and had already started sorting the checklists. After they were sorted and handed out, the soldiers started counting. Most of the time they weren’t talking; the only time someone said something was when one of the men made a mistake and had to start counting from the beginning. It wasn’t until noon when they started to occasionally chat with each other. A rather small guy with a mean face started a conversation with the guy next to him:

“I really don’t get why we have to do this. It’s bullshit. We don’t even _use_ these.”

Yifan agreed in silence, but continued his work. This was the last page of his checklist. If he finished fast, he’d be just in time for lunch, which meant there was still hope to get a proper portion of rice instead of the burnt bits or the smallest potatoes that nobody else wanted.

“I don’t know but I think it’s necessary,” the other one replied to the small guy. “You never know if there’s someone around stealing stuff.”

Lu Han and Yifan looked up in unison. Lu Han shook his head to signal Yifan not to say anything.

“Who would do that?” the small guy asked and flipped the page of his own checklist.

The other one shot Yifan a look over his shoulder and said:

“I don’t know. It’s possible someone is planning _something_.”

Yifan usually was a guy that didn’t try to get into too much trouble, because anything unnerving like a fight or a quarrel was followed by explanations to their division leader and he wanted to spear him the trouble. But being accused of stealing ammunition was something that he didn’t want to just let pass, so threw his checklist on the box he had been inspecting and turned around.

“Do you have anything to say to me?”

Lu Han sighed and turned his attention to the three men in case an argument would emerge.

“I’m just saying. I’d be extra careful around people who associate with the enemy.”

“I think you have to be more specific in your bullshit,” Yifan provokingly said and stepped forward.

“Guys, stop it! We shouldn’t fight with each other and just finish our work!” Lu Han called from behind, sensing that this conversation could go south within seconds.

“No, Lu Han. Let him explain,” Yifan groaned and eyed the other guy angrily.

The other one scoffed, but proceeded to explain what he meant:

“You and that rat of a Communist are planning something and everybody knows.”

“I think that’s enough now!” Lu Han cried out and stepped forward but before he could pull Yifan away, his friend had already held up his fist and hit the other soldier with all his might.

The men surrounding them gasped and Lu Han clasped his hands in front of his mouth.

“Say that again and I’ll hit the other side too!” Yifan barked, while the other one held his face.

It took only a few seconds and the guy tackled Yifan down on the muddy floor.

“Oh my god STOP IT NOW!”

Lu Han and the small guy tried to separate the wrestling men on the floor but they were powerless since they were not as strong as them. Yifan felt how the other one maltreated his face with his fist, while he tried to kick him off. He wasn’t able to properly orient himself in between their arms and legs, but somehow he managed to grab the other one’s throat before they heard someone saying:

“What is going on in here?!”

One of the lieutenants entered the tent and the fighting duo stopped. The soldier rolled off Yifan and both of them jumped on their feet.

“He attacked me, lieutenant.”

“He provoked me.”

The lieutenant stared at them in huge disbelief, then he barked:

“I didn’t assign you to start quarreling like little boys over nothing and I don’t want to hear any of it. Just finish your work, soldiers! We’re not at school anymore and we’re not going to start picking fights with each other! Save that for the Warlords, for god’s sake! Now, go back to work! Should I hear one more thing about one of you stirring trouble, I’ll report it to Chiang Kai-Shek himself!”

He left with one last warning look and Yifan reluctantly went back to counting the content of the box he had been on before this asshole had started talking bullshit. They remained silent for the rest of the work, but glared at each other once in a while, while Lu Han tried to ease the tension with smalltalk – the success his friend had with that tactic was debatable. As soon as he finished with his part of the task, Yifan threw the checklist on the floor and stormed off, his blood still boiling in anger. When he reached his tent, Xiaoqiang bumped into him.

“My god, you’re looking horrible! What happened?”

“None of your business,” Yifan replied and entered his tent.

“Wow, charming as ever,” he heard Xiaoqiang say, but he didn’t bother.

His face hurt as hell and when he took a look into the small mirror he shared with Lu Han, he knew why: His right half was swollen from the hits of the other guy. The left part was muddy, just like his clothes were. That bastard had ruined his freshly washed uniform. Yifan grunted. He put the mirror back into Lu Han’s backpack, then grabbed his second set of clothes, his towel and the small piece of soap that was left from when he left off in Guangzhou. Afterwards he left the tent and took off for the lake into the direction where he had met Yixing yesterday. It was quite a march but he felt like he couldn’t bear any other person’s presence at the usual place where the soldiers washed themselves and their clothes. Besides, the walk helped blowing off some steam.

When he reached the hide-out, he felt calmer – but he was still upset. The ignorance and overall stupidity of some people was just too much to handle for him.

“Bastard,” he mumbled, when he stepped onto the shore of the lake, hidden behind bushes and reed.

He took off his jacket and realized that its whole back was dirty.

“Fuck this guy, seriously!” Yifan roared, when he realized that his small piece of soap wouldn’t be enough for washing his clothes and get himself clean again – great, just great!

He took off his pants and threw them into the water in frustration. Then he sat down and started scrubbing the dirt off. His mood reached an all-time low in this moment and he started to mumble death threats under his breath, glad nobody was around to hear him.

“Huh? What are you doing here?”

Yifan shot up and turned around. Yixing stood behind him. It looked like he also planned to get a bath of some sort because had his towel thrown over his shoulders. He was only wearing his uniform’s pants, a plain white T-Shirt and the cap that was common for the Communists, which was so casual Yifan needed to blink twice for a second. When he saw Yifan’s face, his eyes widened in shock.

“What happened to you?!”

Yixing didn’t wait for an answer; he downed his towel into the cold lake and started to wash off the mud in Yifan’s face, looking genuinely worried.

“It’s nothing, I just got into a fight is all,” Yifan said and tried to take Yixing’s hands off his face, because he didn’t feel like being treated like a kid would help lifting his bad mood.

“Why? Was that one of my people?”

“No, it was some Nationalist soldier, I didn’t even know him.”

“Why would you start picking a fight with one of your own?”

“I did NOT start the fight, okay?!” Yifan snapped at the other one.

Yixing flinched. Yifan had never talked to him like that before. When Yifan realized how harsh he must have sounded, he took a deep breath and said:

“Sorry.”

Instead of responding, Yixing took down his hands and his towel, then tilted his head and asked:

“What did he do to you, Yifan?”

Yifan sighed and knew Yixing wouldn’t let it go until he delivered an answer.

“I was assigned to check on our ammunition with some other soldiers. One of them started talking bullshit and I hit him. We started fighting, but the lieutenant outside the tent stopped it soon enough before something serious could happen.”

“What did he say?”

Yifan looked at his friend, not sure whether he should tell the whole story. In the end, he decided to do so:

“He accused me of plotting something with a Communist rat.”

Now it was Yixing who sighed heavily.

“You can’t let yourself get provoked by something like that.”

“I can’t let people just talk bad about things they have no idea about.”

He didn’t need to explain. Yixing smiled, then said:

“Mind if I take care of that?”

He lifted his towel. Yifan gave up and let him finish what he started. Yixing was very gentle when he cleaned the injured side of Yifan’s face and examined the injuries carefully.

“You’re definitely going to feel this for a while,” Yixing declared.

“Great,” Yifan snorted.

When Yixing was done with his face, he said:

“I actually wanted to take a swim.”

“Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

“Do you want to join me?”

“No, I have to clean my uniform. I better get this over with as long as the sun is still shining.”

Yixing’s eyes locked with Yifan’s small piece of soap laying next to his friend. He raised an eyebrow and said:

“You don’t really think this is going to suffice with all this dirt on your clothes?”

Yifan grunted. Yixing chuckled and handed him his soap that he carried around in a small bag.

“Take mine. And when you’re done, you can join me, okay?”

The taller one accepted the soap, which Yixing took for a ‘yes’ for the general offer.

“Great!”

He stood up and veered away a little and spread out his towel so it would be dry by the time he’d get out of the water and then started to take off his clothes. When you were part of an army, naked men weren’t that special. It happened every day that some guys cleaned themselves at the same time – Yifan had already lost count how many times he’s seen Lu Han naked, or the other way around. Nobody cared since they were all the same anyway. But when Yixing stepped into the cold water and gasped, Yifan couldn’t help but look up and only god knew why, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Yixing without any clothes for the first time. His friend had never been a strong-looking man but his muscles were definitely present. He had a very toned body; especially his legs which might have resulted from all the walking while carrying a heavy backpack. His skin was flawless and still had a slight tan from summer. As he waded farther into the lake, his skin got covered in goosebumps – something Yifan would’ve never noticed if he hadn’t stared at him like this. This was the first time Yifan realized how _gorgeous_ Yixing’s appearance was. And that was the only word that came to his mind to describe him – gorgeous.

He forced himself to focus on his uniform again. Otherwise he would still be scrubbing the dirt off by tomorrow.

“Oh my god, this is so cold!” Yifan heard Yixing cry out when he finally was deep enough to take the first swimming strokes and his body had been embraced by the water.

“Don’t be a baby, you’re a Revolutionist,” Yifan joked, but it came off rather weak.

Yixing splashed water in his direction, but it didn’t reach the other one.

“I dare you coming in here and see for yourself!”

Yifan held his pants up to signal he still had something to do, but promised to join in later.

“Good. And bring the soap, I need to wash my hair.”

When Yifan was finished, he hastily stripped naked himself, hoping that Yixing wouldn’t see him like that. He put both feet into the water and when he realized how cold it actually was, he tried hard to play it cool. But Yixing had already noticed what was going on and he watched him every move with a big grin on his face.

“So, big Revolutionist? Are you cold?”

“Shut up!”

Yixing chuckled in amusement as he watched Yifan entering the water. Suddenly, Yifan felt unbelievably self-conscious about his body. As a kid, he had been way too tall for his age. As a teen, he was way too skinny and extremely lanky and the others at the orphanage had made fun of him. He had been gaining muscle and shape during the military academy, but he was still taller than anybody else and sometimes, his long limbs were just kind of in the way, which annoyed him to no end. Yixing examined his friend closely, still grinning.

“What is your problem? Never have seen a naked man before?!” Yifan snapped and tried to ignore the cold while he walked farther and farther until he was covered to his shoulders.

“I have. But none of them were this good looking.”

“Oh god, shut up!” Yifan stammered and blushed.

Yixing burst out laughing and said:

“Oh come on, it was a joke!”

Yifan dove under the water surface instead to avoid an answer. When he came up again Yixing asked:

“Soap?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Yifan tossed the piece of soap that he had been holding in his hand over to Yixing without a warning. His friend wasn’t prepared and reacted too late – it fell into the water before he could get a hold of it.

“Damn, I’ll get it!” Yifan cried out, took a deep breath and started to dive after it.

The water wasn’t really deep, but it wasn’t very clear either. Yifan lost sight of the item he was looking for very fast and searched the muddy bottom for it. Mud and pieces of plants twirled up and blocked Yifan’s sight even more, but he was lucky and got a hold of the missing item rather quickly. Just when he was about to swim back to the surface though, he felt a sharp pain in his left hand. His scream was muffled because of the water flowing into his mouth when he made out some sort of animal biting him. As fast as the thing attacked it disappeared again and Yifan tried to reach the surface as soon as possible. When he broke back into the sunlight, he heard Yixing:

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah. And I got bit!”

Yifan swam back to the shore, threw the soap into the sand and looked at his hand. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind of animal bit him, but it looked rather alarming. Yixing followed him and demanded:

“Let me see!”

Yifan showed the wound and Yixing said:

“Looks like a snakebite to me.”

“Wait, what?”

“Sit down, that thing was probably toxic.”

Yixing jumped over to his clothes and gathered his towel and his knife. He cut off a stripe and bound it around Yifan’s hand very tightly so the poison wouldn’t continue flowing through the veins. Without looking up he said:

“This is going to hurt”

And cut a small cross over the bite. Yifan flinched, but remained silent as Yixing brought his hand to his own mouth and started sucking the wound. He only stopped to spit out the mixture of saliva and poison into the sand.

“I thought that wouldn’t help,” Yifan said, realizing how weird the situation had to look to strangers.

Two naked men in the sand, and one of them was sucking the other one’s hand.

“Now it’s your turn to shut up,” Yixing replied.

Yifan fell silent and allowed Yixing to proceed. When the other one thought he sucked enough poison out of the wound, he said in a strict tone:

“You need to go to the doctor with that. Now.”

Yixing stood up and strolled over to the rest of his clothes. While he was putting on his pants and shirt, Yifan looked at the wound and said:

“But I don’t feel weird or anything.”

“Yeah, sometimes it takes about thirty minutes for the poison to kick in. Don’t underestimate it.”

Yixing grabbed Yifan’s clothes and carried them over. Yifan sighed.

“You’re probably right.”

“Not only probably. One of my father’s friends died because of a bite like that. Please hurry and get it treated.”

Yifan stopped arguing and put on the dry set of clothes and put his pants and jacket that were still wet under his other arm.

“Wait, don’t let it get infected.”

Yixing cut off another part of his towel and used it as a bandage for the wound.

“Why is it always you saving my life?” Yifan asked the smaller one in disbelief.

“Somebody has to take care of you. And now GO!”

Yifan ran off to camp, while Yixing followed him with his eyes until he was out of sight.

***

As it turned out, Yifan could consider himself lucky. The division’s doctor didn’t exactly know what could have bitten him, because there were a lot of toxic water animals in China’s rivers and lakes, but this one hadn’t been one with the deadliest poison. Yifan was given medicine and a proper bandage and he was good to go. The only thing bothering him was how slowly the wound healed up. Every time he came in again to change the bandages, he barely saw any positive change but the doctor did not seem to be worried about it, so he tried not to stress too much about it either.

Ever since this day, Yifan found himself having weird thoughts and they were all revolving around Yixing. He anticipated their meet ups more than usual. When they parted, he already looked forward to the next day and he thought of him right before going to bed – and right after waking up. He thought about Yixing’s body and how soft his lips had felt against his own skin when he took care of the wound on his hand. They had felt so good, he kind of wished to be feeling them brushing against his skin again, and he wondered how his own lips might feel against Yixing’s body and lips. Yifan didn’t quite understand what this all meant and he barely had the time to sit down and reflect on those thoughts either. They were always on the move, setting up a camp in the evening, and leaving right the next morning. Sometimes Yifan and Yixing couldn’t meet for several days straight which drove the young man from Guangzhou almost crazy. He often thought of just walking over to the Communists and drag Yixing out of there so they could spend time together, but he knew that it would be better for both of them if he didn’t.

Today was one of the nights they finally managed to meet again after they had went without seeing each other for almost a week. It was December and they had passed the border to Zhejiang Province a few weeks back. No combats whatsoever. Every Warlord they had come across hadn’t even tried to oppose them – everybody had heard about Zhang Jingyao’s fate and Chiang Kai-Shek had begun to offer the Warlords a place alongside his army if they surrendered without a fight. Warlords had the tendency to put their personal benefits before anything else, so when given the choice between death and being one of Chiang’s generals, they gladly took the second option. So besides the Communists, the Nationalists also had to put up with the soldiers of the Warlords and Yifan thought they were a huge burden for the division. They didn’t follow anyone’s orders but their general’s and made it clear they had no idea about military tactics. Even the Communists had strict rules they lived by but these people were like barbarians without any common sense. Yifan was eyeing one of them while waiting for Yixing but the soldier wasn’t aware of him and quickly went back to camp. Yifan assumed he got lost on the way getting water for the tea that the soldiers started to cook since the winter had taken its toll and made them shiver as soon as nighttime had fallen over the country.

“How’s the hand?” Yixing asked when he finally showed up next to Yifan.

“Woar, you scared me!”

Yifan jumped a little because he wasn’t prepared that Yixing would show up right next to him.

“Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Yixing gave him a huge smile and Yifan couldn’t help but return it.

“I missed you,” Yixing admitted and he caressed Yifan’s arm with the wounded hand.

Yifan didn’t really feel anything through the coat and the uniform, but the fact that Yixing had touched him in such a gentle way sent shivers down his spine.

“I missed you, too,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, we’ve been kind of busy, huh?” Yixing said and leaned against the tree they chose as meeting point.

“I hope it’s going to be better after Shanghai,” Yifan replied.

“Why in the world is everybody so excited for Shanghai?”

Yifan didn’t know what to say.

“Ummm… I don’t know to be honest. But everybody is going on about.”

“Well, my people are excited for it because our party was founded in Shanghai and there are a lot of labour unions. But why would you guys be so eager to go there?”

Yifan shrugged his shoulders.

“As I said, I have no idea. I’m just glad when this is over. I’m sick and tired of this.”

He wasn’t the only one with that opinion. A lot of his comrades thought the same. Most of them were tired of the walking especially now when it rained almost every day and the temperatures were low.

“I’m tired too. I’m tired of meeting you in secret. Why can’t the others just get over the fact that I’m a Communist and you’re a Nationalist? Does it really matter _that_ much? At the end of the day the only difference we have are our party memberships.”

“Seems like it,” Yifan said and crossed his arms.

“It’s stupid,” his friend stated.

“I know. But we can’t do anything to change it, can we?”

Yixing shook his head to show that he shared Yifan’s opinion. There really was nothing they could do about it, except for keep going with what had been going on for months now.

“Listen, Yixing. It’s not easy and I know that. I mean, every day we’re not talking is such a drag for me. But we need to adjust to the situation and when this is all done we can start over and stop with this hiding and meeting in secret.”

Yixing looked Yifan in the eyes, with a sad look on his face. He managed to smile a little and then he said:

“I’m afraid the hiding will never stop, Yifan.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The smaller one didn’t answer, instead he checked if anyone was around. When he couldn’t make out any other person’s presence he turned to Yifan, with a look on his face that Yifan couldn’t quite understand. He then leaned over and placed his lips on Yifan’s cheek for barely a second.

“I think I like you.”

Yifan froze. A weird sensation had shot through his body when Yixing’s lips had touched his skin, but this time he wasn’t doing it to suck any life threatening substances out of his system. Yixing seemed to interpret Yifan’s silence the wrong way and a look of sadness crept on his face.

“I think I’ll leave first then.”

Right when Yixing was already a few feet away, Yifan finally squeezed out some words:

“Will we… meet tomorrow? Please?”

Yixing turned around and gave Yifan one of his wide smiles, which were Yifan’s favorite.

“Sure. If you want to.”

“I do – I always do!”

The sudden enthusiasm in Yifan’s voice made Yixing let out a relieved laugh, indicating that he felt the same.

“Then let’s meet tomorrow. Take care of your hand, you don’t want to get it septic.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Yixing waved his hand goodbye, mouthing a “Good Night” and left to go back to his tent. It took Yifan a few minutes before he realized what had happened. He started to grin from one ear to the other and made his way back to the camp, almost running to somehow get rid of the fit of energy that Yixing’s confession had caused. Even though it was wet and cold and his hand still hurt as hell, he couldn’t recall a moment in his life where he had felt better as he did now.


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If not for the Generalissimo, Yifan would probably have a nice night out with Yixing in Shanghai. Well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is a necessary evil, sorry.

**Part IV**

Having managed to get through the winter without any bigger complications, Yifan and Lu Han were going through a small forest looking for wood that was dry enough to start a fire. While the temperatures had started to climb up again, the rain wouldn’t stop anytime soon; if not, it only rained heavier and more frequently than ever. On the bright side, Yifan’s hand had finally healed up and they were close to Shanghai now. 

The last few months had been an emotional rollercoaster for Yifan. Yixing’s small peck on the cheek was followed by a lot of other kisses in the dark. Yifan knew that this type of relationship with Yixing was even more dangerous, but never had anything in his life made him feel better than being with him, even for just a few hours. Yixing was also well aware their feelings wouldn’t be tolerated and he had grown especially careful over the last few weeks when being with Yifan. It took all of their willpower to not give into the desperate needs to hold each other close the second they met somewhere behind bushes and trees – there always had to be a double check to make sure no one was around before they’d crash their lips onto the other’s. To make matters worse, rumors went around the division that Chiang Kai-Shek planned on cutting ties with the Communists sooner than originally planned. Yixing worried about those words more than Yifan – Yifan was ready to just leave the army if they’d get separated, but Yixing didn’t want him to betray the Generalissimo because it would cause too much trouble. Besides, if they just left, they’d be labeled as traitors by their comrades, making deserting the army a non-debatable option. Sometimes Yixing would state that they didn’t have the chance of being together after the United Front, but Yifan never wanted to hear anything about it. Maybe he was naïve to think like that but he believed there would be a way for them – even though he had no idea how to handle the situation.

“You seem very happy,” Lu Han stated while strolling through the brushwood, “Does this have something to do with that Communist friend of yours?”

Yifan was so shocked, he almost tripped over some branches.

“… what?!”

Lu Han chuckled, then he said:

“No worries, I won’t tell anyone.”

“How do you… what do you know?”

The young man in front of him sighed and then explained:

“First of all, I saw you once. I think that was in Hangzhou last month. You hid behind those bushes and I was on my way to get water. I didn’t go the usual route because I wanted to see a little more of the area. And that’s when I saw you two.”

Yifan’s face lost all its color. How hadn’t they noticed?

“Second of all, I’m not _blind_. The way you look for him while we’re marching and the looks you exchange when you bump into each other. And even that seems awfully staged. It’s pretty obvious.”

“I… I thought we were…”

“Discreet? No, not really.”

Panic rushed through Yifan’s veins after Lu Han’s statement. If he had noticed already...

“Lu Han, do you think others… know?”

Lu Han shook his head no.

“It’s just me. I haven’t heard of others being more suspicious than usual. I think it’s just because I know how you usually act around people. And you completely change when you’re around him.”

Yifan was thunderstruck. He looked at Lu Han in disbelief and expected him to scold him because he was so stupid to start an intimate relationship with another man - another man who was a Communist on top of that. But Lu Han just smiled like he always did and said:

“Yifan, I’m not talking to you about this because I think you’re in the wrong here. I don’t really understand the whole thing, that’s right, but I’m not judging you. And I won’t tell anyone, I promise. But please don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m trying, Lu Han.”

Lu Han smiled mildly, then he advised to go back since the rain made it impossible to find suitable wood anyway and their clothes were soaking wet. Yifan nodded and they turned for the camp. He thought about the things Lu Han had said to him and wasn’t sure whether or not he should tell Yixing that the other one knew about them. He decided to not do so – Yixing was jumpy enough as it was and he feared this new information would only make it worse.

***

The next day, the lieutenants and generals broke news: The division would split up when marching into Shanghai, the official reason being to cover more ground. The soldiers were commanded to pack their things right away, since labor strikes in Shanghai made the situation especially delicate, so an early arrival of the NRA was a pressing issue for the generals. Yifan frowned. If he didn’t find a way to at least say goodbye to Yixing, he might not see him for a few days again. Lu Han side-eyed him, grinning knowingly, but he remained silent. When the lieutenant told them to get their lazy asses moving, Yifan whispered:

“What am I going to do now?”

Lu Han pouted, something he always did when he was thinking, then he grabbed his flask, opened it and used the water to extinguish the small fire they had managed to start in the morning.

“I think you need to go and get us some water for the march. I’ll handle the rest.”

Yifan didn’t really understand what Lu Han had in mind, but since he seemed to at least have an idea, he followed his order. He grabbed his own flask which was empty anyway and walked to the spot where they had been getting water the last two days. It was a rather small stream, very shallow, but the water level had risen immensely the last 24 hours because of the rain that had been pouring down. Right now, the sun came out behind the last rainclouds for the day, at least for a few moments. When he reached the stream, nobody else was there and Yifan didn’t know what to do next. Sure, he was supposed to get water. But that was a task done within one minute at the most. Should he wait?

He had been staring into the water for a few minutes, when he heard someone say:

“Ugh, a Nationalist.”

He turned around and saw Yixing and another Communist soldier. Yixing tried to hide his smile when he saw Yifan and Yifan tried to do the same. Around others they thought it was better to act like they didn’t really know each other, even though, or maybe because, people were still very suspicious when they were around the other.

“I’m allowed to get some water, too, am I?” Yifan scoffed and the stranger who had shot the comment rolled his eyes.

The men who had just arrived reached the water and filled up two big buckets which they needed to wash the dirt off the tents before folding them together. When they had finished, Yixing’s companion asked:

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just give me a second.”

Yixing pulled out his own flask and shook it to indicate it was empty.

“I’ll catch up to you.”

“Suit yourself.”

When Yixing was sure his comrade was out of eyesight and earshot, he turned to Yifan.

“So your little friend knows about us now?”

“How…?”

“Well, he was walking around camp and acted like he had some very important thing to do. And when he came across me he mumbled something like ‘I hope Yifan will be back from the stream soon, I’m dying of thirst.’ And then he stared at me in such an obvious way that even a blind person could’ve understood what he meant by that.”

“Oh my god…”

Yifan buried his face in his hands. It seemed like Lu Han wasn’t really discreet about this thing either.

“Did you tell him?” Yixing asked immediately, worry resounding in his voice.

“No, I didn’t. He kind of figured it out on his own.”

Yixing didn’t seem to approve of the whole thing and he frowned.

“But he promised to not tell anyone. And I believe him, he’s a good guy.”

“Do you really trust him?”

“Yes. I do. I have known him ever since we started our training at Whampoa. We don’t have to worry about him, I promise.”

Yifan’s lover seemed to calm down a bit and his body eased up a little.

“So, do you have anything important to say to me or what was the purpose of this horribly planned meet-up?” he asked then and proceeded to fill some water into his bottle.

“I just wanted to see you before we leave.”

Yixing looked up and smiled.

“You’re cute.”

“I’m also a little worried,” Yifan admitted and bent down to fill up his and Lu Han’s flask.

Yixing looked over his shoulder to check if anyone was nearing the stream, before he touched Yifans left hand in a very gentle and loving way.

“Why’s that? We’ll be separated for not even two days. I won’t run away with another guy.”

“It’s not _that_ ”, Yifan protested and continued to explain himself, “It’s just that a lot of rumors go around about the United Front being dissolved soon. And I just don’t know… I have a bad feeling about Shanghai.”

Yixing stood up and so did Yifan. The smaller one gave him a big smile and said:

“Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine. I heard we’re going to stay a little longer in Shanghai, so I thought we could get rid of these stupid uniforms and do something for fun. Like normal people do.”

“Like what?”

Yixing shrugged his shoulders, but carried a devilish grin on his face.

“I heard Shanghai has quite the nightlife.”

Yifan didn’t know why, but his body tensed and heated up. Before he could put Yixing’s message into proper perspective, he heard himself saying:

“Sure, why not?”

In the corner of his eye Yifan saw some other soldiers approaching. His face fell in disappointment when he realized that the very short time they had alone was over again.

“Someone’s coming.”

“Then I’d better get going.”

Yixing took a few steps back to the bucket and grabbed it. He turned around one last time:

“See you in Shanghai then.”

Just in that moment the soldiers had caught up to them and Yixing left with one last smile directed at Yifan. Then he set off to deliver the water. Yifan hoped that it wouldn’t take too long for them to reach Shanghai, even though he still had a weird feeling about arriving in the city.

***

When the Nationalist part of the division arrived in Shanghai, it was pouring again. The soldiers’ mood was on a new low and nobody really gave the impression to go any step further or have a fight with one of the Warlords or the people of the labor unions who had gone on strikes the last few days. Yifan and Lu Han waited with the others for any kind of order, hoping it would turn out to be yet another command to roll out the tents and set up a camp for the night. While Yifan wondered where the Communists were at, one of the lieutenants finally showed up, with a piece of paper in his hands.

“Quiet, soldiers!” he barked and unfolded the paper where he had scribbled down notes.

The rain was so heavy though that the ink washed away within seconds. He sighed in frustration and threw the paper into the dirt. The man looked up and it was like he eyed every single man who stood in front of him.

“We’ve came to a conclusion,” he started, “And the conclusion is to dissolve the United Front.”

The soldiers looked at each other, some looks more or less confused.

“From now on, we will not engage with the Communists anymore.”

Most of the Nationalists didn’t seem to mind a lot. Lu Han and Yifan exchanged a nervous look. Something about the lieutenant’s expression gave away that it wasn’t just that easy.

“In fact, Chiang Kai-Shek called out for a purge.”

Silence fell over the murmuring crowd. Yifan held his breath and grabbed Lu Han’s arm. What exactly did he mean by that? The lieutenant placed his hands on his hips and gave out the final order, getting more and more excited with every single word he spat out:

“Tonight, I only give out one order: Kill the Communists. Kill the soldiers. Kill the CPC members here in Shanghai. We’re going to get rid of all those rats, for the sake of our Republic!”

Every Nationalist around Yifan and Lu Han started to cheer – the two men looked at each other in horror and then the crowd dissolved since most of the soldiers couldn’t wait to get started who ran for the main streets of Shanghai.

“Lu Han, I…”

“I know!”

Lu Han grabbed his friend and dragged him to the side. The other soldiers were too excited to notice them not joining at once anyway.

“I need to warn him. He’s not allowed to enter the city!”

Panic flooded Yifan’s body and he wanted to make a run for it – but Lu Han held him back.

“Yifan, you don’t even know the route they have taken. You can’t just run out of the city and into a random direction.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?!”

“I don’t know. But we’ll find a way. You need to know where they will enter the city and somehow get a hold of Yixing. I think it’s best when we split up.”

“How can they do this, Lu Han?!”

Yifan’s breath shortened and tears filled up his eyes, fueled by the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“Yifan, I need you to focus now, okay? Take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. They cannot kill everybody.”

The taller one tried to do as he was told, but his heart still pounded hard against his chest when he stepped on to the main street to look for Yixing, while Lu Han left for the other direction.

***

As he made his way through the streets of Shanghai, he witnessed horrors that he never thought people were capable of doing: Nationalist soldiers dragged men out of the houses and shot them in front of their families, waving the document that confirmed their CPC membership. Others used their rifles to beat other Communist soldiers and left them to die in the dirt. The Nationalists killed in such a bloody manner the streets turned red, since the drainages couldn’t hold any more water because of the heavy rain that had been coming down the whole day. The whole time there was only one thought going through Yifan’s head: Please. Please don’t kill him. For the love of god, _let him live_.

After running around like a maniac for an hour, Yifan had to rest a moment. He stopped in a dark alley, catching his breath. He hadn’t seen Yixing anywhere which he took for a good sign. Maybe he had managed to escape, maybe he was with Lu Han. Yifan didn’t want to think about any other possibility at the moment. He exclaimed a lot of curses while he leaned against the wall.

“Yifan?”

Yifan jumped when he realized that it was _his_ voice calling him. He turned around and made out Yixing’s frightened face sticking out of a dumpster.

“Oh my god!”

Within seconds Yifan was at his side and opened the container. When he cupped Yixing’s face with his own hands he recognized a gashing wound right under Yixing’s hairline. Even though he looked horrible, Yifan was so relieved to see him.

“Are you okay?!”

“They’re… they’re killing everyone,” Yixing stammered as he clung onto Yifan’s hands like a drowning man clung onto a piece of wood keeping him above water.

“I know… I’ve been trying to find you…”

“You somehow always find me.”

Yifan smiled and caressed Yixing’s cheeks to calm him down. For that moment, time stood still and the chaos around them faded - Yifan tried to memorize every little feature the other had, from his cheekbones to his nose, his brown eyes and his soft dark hair. Even now, with dirt and blood on his face, Yifan was sure that he’s never seen a more beautiful person in his life and it reminded him somehow of the first time they had met. The outcry of a man on the main street pulled him back to reality though.

“Please, I swear to god, I am not a Communist! I’m just like you! I have kids and an old mother to look after, I beg of you, have mercy! No, please, you don’t understand, I---”

A shot resounded and the two never heard his voice again. Yixing who had calmed down in Yifan’s presence tensed up.

“If they get me, I want you to do it. I don’t want to be killed by a stranger.”

“NO,” Yifan protested.

He checked if anyone was nearby, but the alley was just as abandoned as before.

“Listen to me: You will not die today. I will get you out of here.”

“How?! They’ll see my uniform and shoot me right away if I’m lucky. One of your guys attacked me with his rifle and I could barely fight him off.”

Yifan hadn’t thought exactly about a great escape plan, he had to admit. The only thing he could think of was a change of clothes.

“Okay, here’s the plan: You stay put, I’m trying to find some civilian clothes for you.”

“But they’re also shooting civilians…”

“But your chances of getting out are higher than in your uniform!”

Yixing seemed to think about it, then he held on to Yifan’s arms even tighter.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he begged. “Please, just stay with me! I think I can die as long as you’re by my side!”

It broke Yifan’s heart to see him like that but it was no use. They had to get moving and they had to get moving fast, because no – Yixing wasn’t going to die today, and Yifan had to make sure it wouldn’t happen.

“I will be back as fast as I can. I promise.”

Yixing finally gave in and let him leave with a hesitant nod. When the lid closed Yifan ran back to the main street, only stopping for a few seconds to behold the chaos in front of him. The bloody water ran into his shoes as he started walking again thinking of how to get a hold of a simple shirt and pants for Yixing. The whole situation was too surreal to be true, but in the same time the fear that kept him moving felt too real to be a nightmare. After ten minutes he stopped and saw the body of a man lying in the street who had similar body features to Yixing. He had died from a clean headshot and was wearing a white shirt tucked into grey business suit pants. It seemed like he had just returned from work when the Nationalists had dragged him out of his apartment. Yifan hesitated at first, because it felt wrong to steal from a dead man, but on the other hand he had to take action and it wasn’t like the dead guy had any use for his clothes anymore. So he grabbed his ankles and dragged him into a side alley where he stripped him off his shirt and pants, always checking to make sure nobody was seeing him, even though that might have been unnecessary – the Nationalists were on a rampage, not paying attention to single persons on the sidelines. When he had managed to pull the shirt and pants off the man, he sprinted back to where he had left Yixing.

“I’m back,” he called when he turned into the street and opened the lid of the dumpster.

But Yixing was gone. At first Yifan thought he might have taken a wrong turn, but then he took a look down his body and realized that he was standing in a puddle of blood mixed with dirt and water. He was too late.

“No, no, NO!”

He kicked against the dumpster as hard as he could. The pain rushing through his foot into his whole body made him fall on his knees and he let out a long painful scream. It was over. He had failed Yixing.

***

When Lu Han found Yifan, the rain had already stopped, just like Yifan had stopped crying because he didn’t have the energy to do so anymore. He didn’t know what time it was, or what exactly was going on. He only had heard the screams and gunshots fading and at some point, they had stopped. Maybe the troops had moved on to other parts of the city. Or the killing spree indeed had ended. He didn’t know, and he also didn’t really care much to begin with.

“Yifan?”

Yifan didn’t respond. Lu Han sat down next to him, leaned against the wall and sighed heavily.

“I couldn’t find him, I’m sorry.”

“I did,” Yifan whispered.

Lu Han shot up and widened his eyes.

“Did he get away?”

Yifan shook his head and burst out into dry sobbing. Lu Han didn’t manage to say a word and took a look around the alley. The blood on the floor caught his attention and he turned to Yifan with a horrified expression on his face.

“Is he in there?” he asked while pointing at the dumpster.

Again, Yifan shook his head no. Then the told Lu Han what had happened. How he found Yixing basically by accident and went to find some sort of disguise for him, holding up the clothes that he still clung onto. And how he was gone when he had returned.

“But Yifan, this might be a good sign!” Lu Han tried to comfort him, “Maybe someone found him and helped him escape. Maybe he got out of Shanghai!”

Yifan couldn’t reply. As much as he wanted Lu Han to be right, he had lost hope. Even if Yixing somehow had made it out of this hell, he wouldn’t go far having lost so much blood as the scenery indicated. He felt Lu Han squeezing his shoulder before he said:

“Come on, you need to get out of these clothes.”

Yifan had no intention of going back to camp where all these murderers were residing. They left together in Guangzhou to fight the Warlords, the bad people who had brought misery and chaos onto the citizens of the Chinese cities – now they were the ones bringing the chaos. The Nationalists weren’t better than the Warlords and their troops. Suddenly, the Northern Expedition and the United Front seemed like a ridiculous farce to Yifan and everything he had believed in crumpled down in front of him. He let Lu Han pull him up and support him while they walked down the blood-stained streets of Shanghai. Night had fallen over the town and nobody had bothered to remove the bodies yet. While they were making their way to the camp, Yifan made out the muffled crying of kids and wives who had lost their loved ones.

“We’re horrible monsters,” he stated.

Lu Han only gave him a sad look, as if he wanted to agree with him.


	5. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could've added smut to this part, but since I'm an asshole and I didn't want to change too much of the original story that I've posted SO LONG AGO when I didn't really try to write smut. So. Yeah. There we are.
> 
> But hey. Sequels could happen. Maybe.  
> If y'all up for that.
> 
> /shrugs

**Part V**

Eight years had passed ever since the day of and Yifan found himself somewhere in the wilderness of Shaanxi. After the purge in Shanghai, Lu Han and Yifan had stayed in the NRA, more out of fear they’d be killed too than out of belief to fight for the right thing. In 1928, they had reached Beijing and Chiang Kai-Shek finally finished what his predecessor Sun Yat-Sen had planned to do by himself: The unification of China. Nanjing was declared the capital of the Republic and the Communists had been nearly wiped out. As soon as the Republic was established, Lu Han quit the army and stayed in Beijing since his father owned a famous trading house and he took over the branch in the former capital. Yifan on the other hand had no other perspective or idea on what to do, so he stayed in the army, ironically being rewarded some medals for his ‘exceptional accomplishments’ during the Northern Expedition.

The Republic, Yifan found, didn’t bring peace and stability to China, if not, it was even worse now and a civil war had emerged. The remaining communists had started a ‘Long March’ under the command of Mao Zedong, escaping the Nationalist troops all the time. Even though the Nationalists had the advantage in numbers, they lacked in ideology and loyalty. Most of the Nationalist soldiers deserted the divisions, some generals even bound their men together so they couldn’t escape. As it turned out, Yifan was now one of these deserters, mostly because he was tired of chasing the First Front Army, since they had _never_ gotten a hold of them. Every time they thought they caught up to them, Mao Zedong ordered his soldiers into a different direction, fooling the Nationalists around. 

God, how he hated that guy.

Today was April 12th. Eight years ago, Yifan had lost Yixing to an ideology that turned out not to be the answer to all the problems. Ever since then he had grown cold to others, even to Lu Han, who was there for him to cope with the loss. Nightmares that made him cry in his sleep had been hauntig Yifan for the first year and it had always been Lu Han to calm him down. And even though Yifan felt thankful to have a friend like him, none of the times he had comforted him could ever make up for the loss of Shanghai. No other person had managed to connect to him the way Yixing had. Even now, eight years later, he still thought of him and he felt his heart physically hurting.

Unlike in Shanghai, the sun was shining and the world seemed at peace, at least here, somewhere in the Qinling mountains of Shaanxi province. He had left his camp before sunrise and now he had gotten hopelessly lost.

“Damn it,” he grunted as he broke out of the forest he had wandered through, only to stand on a wide green meadow, still having had no idea where he was or how he could get to the nearest village.

He sat down in frustration and downed the last bit of water he had left. Maybe running away hadn’t been such a genius idea in the end. But even if he decided to go back now, he would not know how, let alone if he’d be greeted by his commander with open arms again. He thought hard about what to do next and didn’t notice the movement behind him. He only got aware of the presence of other people when he heard the click of a gun being unlocked and placed on his temple.

“Hands up where I can see them, Nationalist. And get up. Slowly.”

Yifan did as he was told. As he got up he was surrounded by eight other Communists, most of them were at least nine years younger than him. Even a young woman was with them, threatening him with a knife. Another young man took away his backpack and the gun that he carried around his belt.

“Come with us.”

The former NRA member realized that resistance was no use since it was one of him and nine of them, and everyone carried a weapon. If the guy who had captured him pulled the trigger, he’d be dead within seconds.

Well, now that he thought about it, dying didn’t seem to be the worst thing that could happen to him and he wasn’t sure if he should be at least shocked a little how the thought of dying didn’t seem to bother him too much. Yifan was lead to a small village where the Communists had set up their camp, but seemed more of a base. He saw soldiers helping the villagers sowing seeds and repairing houses. He also saw no tents so he figured they stayed inside the buildings. Outside one of them, a group of soldiers had stuck their noses into small notebooks, reciting Communists paroles. The whole scenery was peaceful, as if the Long March and the war against the Nationalists didn’t even exist.

“Look, we found one of them roaming around!” the girl cried out and drew the attention on them.

“A NATIONALIST?!”

The guy behind him pushed the barrel of his gun into Yifan’s back, telling him to keep walking. Within seconds, he was surrounded by numerous other soldiers who tried to catch a look at him.

“What are we going to do with him?!”

“I bet there are more where he came from.”

“Are they close? Do we have to leave now?”

An uproar rose between the soldiers and Yifan was pushed farther into the village. Suddenly the mob stopped and the guy with the gun hit the back of his head. Yifan groaned in pain and fell on his knees.

“Speak up, Nationalist. Where are you from? How did you get here?!”

Yifan did not answer, since he wasn’t really in the mood for talking, especially not with a bunch of young pricks like them. He looked down on the dusty floor, and refused cooperation. Somebody spat on him.

“Hey, we asked you a question, bastard! Speak up!”

“What is going on here?”

Somebody emerged from one of the houses and silenced the angry crowd.

“Comrade Zhang, we found a Nationalist while we were on guard duty!” the young woman reported and sounded proud of their achievement, “We brought him here! What shall we do with him? Should we get Comrade Zhou? Should we report to leader Mao?”

Comrade Zhang squeezed himself through the people until he reached Yifan and his abductors. Yifan still did not look up and waited through the silence emerging until he heard the unbelieving sounding exclaim:

“Yifan?!”

Yifan’s head shot up when he heard his name and when he saw Comrade Zhang, his heart skipped a beat.

_This was Yixing._

“I… thought you were dead!!” he cried out when he realized that the person he had believed to be lost forever was standing right in front of him.

Yixing did not say anything, but fell on his knees and hugged him tightly without a word, forgetting the people around them.

“No, I made it out… I’m so sorry, I didn’t know how to let you know.”

“I… what… how?!”

“Comrade Zhang, what is going on?!”

The guy with the gun spoke up and the girl asked:

“Are you friends with a _Nationalist_?!”

Yixing looked at them, then he eyed the other ones. He seemed to have some sort of higher authority over them, because they looked at him, clearly expecting an order.

“It’s okay, you guys. This is an old friend of mine and he’s no threat,” he said while he got back on his feet again.

“But he is a Nationalist!”

“We should kill him!”

“Or hold him captive!”

Yixing shook his head and ordered the youngsters to shut their mouths.

“Yes, he is a Nationalist. But he saved my life when I was in Shanghai.”

He looked at Yifan, who still didn’t dare to blink – otherwise, he feared, Yixing would disappear again. Yixing continued:

“He risked being labeled a traitor and he did everything to get me out of there. I owe him. And as your comrade, I ask you to leave him alone and not hurt him. He’s not like the other Nationalists who made us endure so much hardship. He’s a friend. I will take this from here and I will work it out with Comrade Zhou as soon as I meet him. Now please go back to your assigned tasks. Thank you.”

The mob dissolved, but most of them were giving Yifan evil looks and muttered some threats when they passed him. When they were alone, Yixing grabbed his arm and said:

“Come with me.”

He led him into the house he had come out of where Yifan found a huge table in the middle of the room and an old lady sat beside the fireplace, watching a huge pot with food on the stove. When they came in, she looked at Yifan and let out a small scream.

“It’s okay, it’s okay! He’s not the enemy!”

“What is a Nationalist doing here?”

Her voice was thin as paper. She seemed to be at least 90 years old and extremely immobile. Her feet stuck in tiny shoes, barely 3 inches long which indicated that she must have gotten her feet bound at a very young age which had tied her to the house.

“I don’t know either, Auntie. Yifan?”

He finally turned to him and ordered him to sit down. The woman that Yixing had called ‘Auntie’ watched him closely.

“I… I left my division and got lost when these kids showed up and took me.”

“Why did you leave your division?”

“I don’t know… I… YIXING, you are ALIVE! How is this possible?! There was so much blood, what happened back there?!”

“Shhh,” Yixing tried to calm Yifan down and grabbed his hands, “I know, I know. And I am so sorry about all this. I really wanted to contact you but it was too dangerous.”

He pushed Yifan to sit down at the table, since the taller one hadn’t moved an inch.

“Just answer me – what happened?”

Yixing turned to the old woman:

“Auntie, would you mind bringing us some water?”

“Sure,” she replied and got up.

She tippled to the backdoor with a small bucket in her hands. When she had exited, Yixing looked at Yifan again and started to explain:

“I was doing as you had told me – I waited for you until you got back. Suddenly I heard someone knocking on the lid and I thought it was you, so I got out. But it wasn’t you. It was another Nationalist and he dragged me out and started beating me up. I fought him off, but then I panicked and ran for the other direction, because I thought that there might be others who were looking for him.”

Yifan listened and tried to process every single word.

“Eventually, I passed out. This guy had beaten me up really bad and I lost a lot of blood. When I woke up, I was lying in the back of a truck and someone tried to patch me up with a few bandages. There were maybe six other Communists in the truck and they told me that we were leaving the city. They saw me collapsing on the street, so they stopped to pick me up. We escaped to Hunan.”

Yifan didn’t say a word. He stared at Yixing in awe, still having the feeling that this might be just a dream and he’d wake up any minute in his tent, still far away from him. Yixing came closer and said:

“Believe me, there was not one day when I haven’t thought about you. But with this whole purge going on I could never stay in one place very long. One of the men who escaped Shanghai with me was Zhou Enlai and I had followed him ever since, I even followed him and Mao from the beginning of this march. And now we’re here.”

“You were alive the whole time…”

The other one in the Nationalist uniform couldn’t wrap his head around that fact. He felt Yixing’s warm hands ins his own, and he couldn’t believe it. Their skin had turned coarse over the time due to the work they must have had been doing during the last years, but they were still as gentle as Yifan remembered. The door opened and the old Lady waddled in. She placed the bucket with fresh water on the table and grabbed two glasses from the shelf. When she handed them to Yixing, she took another look at Yifan and then she seemed to remember:

“Oooooh. Is that your friend you told me about?”

“Yes, Auntie.”

Her face brightened up and suddenly she looked a lot younger. She patted Yifan’s shoulder and said:

“Yixing has been telling me a lot about you. He’s very grateful for what you did for him.”

“But… I couldn’t protect him in the end,” Yifan protested weakly.

“You did, Yifan. You gave me a reason to believe that there are still good people.”

Yifan looked at Yixing, who gave him such a loving look the feelings from eight years ago washed over him like waves in the sea. This was Yixing, and he was alive and well. Right when he wanted to say something the frontdoor opened and a man stepped in. He was relatively small, but there was something about him that made him appear above everyone else in the room. Yixing stood up when he entered but did not salute like the Nationalists used to do when someone of higher position appeared.

“Comrade Zhou. I figured they’d tell you immediately.”

Zhou Enlai nodded and looked at Yifan.

“So this is the big bad wolf.”

“He’s a wolf, but not a bad one,” Yixing chuckled and Yifan was unsure of what to do.

Zhou Enlai examined Yifan from head to toe, then he said:

“Comrade Zhang, you know I don’t like violence. Especially not at camp.”

“I know. That’s why I stepped in when they brought him here.”

“And you did well by that. Those youngsters have too much energy for their own good.”

Yixing nodded to agree with one of the most important Communist leaders.

“Nonetheless, he is a Nationalist. And we have to do something about him.”

Yixing’s face fell. He looked at Yifan and then back to his leader.

“I beg you, Comrade Zhou. Don’t send him away. He’s my dearest friend and we just met again after eight years.”

“Comrade Zhang, leader Mao already suggested to tie him to a tree and leave him there.”

“Please, I’m sure we can work out _something_.”

“I’m not a Nationalist anymore,” Yifan suddenly broke out.

The two men stopped their argument and turned to look at him.

“But you’re wearing their uniform, soldier,” Zhou stated.

“I deserted the army. I left my camp this morning with no intention of going back.”

Zhou tilted his head as if he was thinking.

“Is this the truth?”

“It is. I’m done with it. Nationalism hasn’t done China any good. And it destroyed most of my life. I want nothing to do with it anymore.”

Saying out loud what he had been thinking all this years felt incredibly good. Yixing’s face up lit up in a smile as he turned to Zhou Enlai.

“He’s telling the truth. I know him well enough. And he knows their strategies better than anyone of us. I don’t mean to sound rude Comrade Zhang, but your days at the academy in Whampoa date back a long time. Since Shanghai, you haven’t engaged with any of the Nationalists. Yifan knows their current tactics. We could use his knowledge.”

Zhou Enlai scratched his stubby chin, contemplating whether to make a decision right away or talk to Mao Zedong first.

“This could actually work…” he then admitted.

“It will work, I’m sure of it.”

Zhou Enlai raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t approve of the pressure Yixing put on him.

“Soldier,” Zhou turned to Yifan and he stood up on his feet, “would you be ready to become a Communist? We’re not taking anyone else with us.”

“Ummm…” Yifan shot a look at Yixing, who nodded to signal he should say yes, “I… guess I would.”

“Do you guess or do you _know_?”

“I know,” he corrected.

Zhou Enlai finally cracked a smile.

“So, if you’re ready to become a proper member of the First Front Army and Communist Party of China, I need you to swear to live by the rules of Communism and respect our leader Mao. You have to swear to obey to what the Communist leadership says. You’re supposed to support your fellow comrades and the rural people. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.”

Zhou looked at Yixing who tried to hide the big smile that was creeping on his face, looked back at Yifan and said:

“I will watch you closely, soldier. You are Comrade Zhang’s responsibility now. If you mess up, Comrade Zhang will be punished. Am I clear about this?”

“You are,” Yifan responded and he suddenly felt like the Communists were even tighter organized than the Nationalists.

Yixing didn’t seem to mind what Zhou Enlai just said. He just nodded in agreement, without even protesting.

“What’s your name?”

“Wu Yifan, Sir.”

“It’s Comrade Zhou,” the leader corrected, “and now, you need to follow me, Comrade Wu. You need a new uniform.”

He stepped out of the house and Yixing pushed Yifan out as well.

“I’ll wait here. Just follow him,” he instructed.

The next twenty minutes went by too fast for Yifan to fully understand what just had happened. He followed Zhou through the village, trying to ignore the looks and glares shot at him – in that moment, he kind of understood how Yixing must have felt eight years ago when he had found their division and Yifan was willing to take him in. Zhou gave him one of their uniforms his size and ordered to put it on immediately. When Yifan had changed, Zhou told him to get rid of the old clothes that indicated where he came from. He suggested burning them, since this also had some sort of symbolic character to it – burning his past. Yifan followed the order without giving it too much thought about the weight of that decision and Zhou let him burn his old uniform in front of the house he was living in, so everybody else could watch. Zhou then announced that Yifan was now one of them and he should be treated as such. Afterwards he let him go back to Yixing.

When Yifan stepped into the house again, Yixing wasn’t in the room. It was just the old lady back in her chair, stirring the food in the pot. When she saw him, she asked him:

“And who are you, young man?”

“Miss… I’m Yifan. Yixing’s friend.”

It took her a moment to make the connection to the Nationalist that had crashed her house barely thirty minutes ago to the Communist soldier who was now standing in front of her.

“Oooooh, yes, yes! Oh, you look so different in that uniform! It suits you! Yixing is upstairs in his room, he said he’d share it with you and is preparing everything.”

When Yifan was on the first step of the staircase, the old woman said:

“And, Yifan. I’m not a Miss. Call me ‘Auntie’. Everybody does.”

The man couldn’t help but find this lady adorable. He smiled at her and replied:

“I will. Thank you, Auntie.”

The second floor consisted of two rooms. One door was closed, the other one open and Yifan made out Yixing who prepared something that seemed to be a bed. When Yifan stepped into the room and closed the door, he looked up. As Yixing recognized the new uniform on his body, he burst out laughing.

“I know I look ridiculous,” Yifan mumbled and was obviously uncomfortable in his new outfit.

“Nooo, you look fine,” Yixing giggled and stood up. “You look better than before, to be honest. I knew this hat would suit you.”

Then he hovered over to him and stopped maybe a few inches in front of him. He adjusted the collar of the jacket and said:

“It’s just… I’m just not used to it.”

His hands rested on Yifan’s broad shoulders and he grinned widely, and Yifan felt like if he couldn’t kiss that man in front of him within the next second, he’d explode.

“And I’m happy that you’re here.”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Yifan admitted and grabbed Yixing’s elbows to hold him close.

“So did I. But you somehow always find me.”

Yifan longed to touch Yixing, but he wasn’t sure if he was still obliged to do so. He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Yixing, are we still…”

Yixing cupped his face with his hands and looked the taller one deep in the eyes.

“It’s not like there ever has been someone else.”

Yifan sighed in relief and finally threw his arms around Yixing’s slim waste. Yixing grinned and asked:

“What’s Auntie doing downstairs?”

“Well… she’s stirring… in that pot.”

Yixing’s eyes brightened up.

“Good. That means there’s still time until she calls in for dinner.”

Yixing took off Yifan’s new hat and tossed it aside. Then he pulled Yifan closer, closing the gap between them and kissed him softly, and Yifan felt such an enormous amount of happiness rushing through his body, he felt tears shooting up his eyes. He’d never thought he’d be feeling Yixing like that ever again. He’d never thought to be hearing his voice again, yet here he was, having all of that what made him happy back with him.

“You and I have to make up for eight whole years,” he mumbled against Yifan’s lips.

And for the first time since 1927, Yifan managed to smile again.


End file.
